


Dance To This

by nothingwithoutyouxo



Series: 100 Ways To Tell Someone You Love Them [3]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Partying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 04:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15235350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingwithoutyouxo/pseuds/nothingwithoutyouxo
Summary: How to stop your best friend from freaking out at a party? Ask him to dance with you.(100 Ways to tell someone you love them #3 "Can I have this dance?")





	Dance To This

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone. Sorry for disappearing off the face of the AO3 planet for a while. I'm going through a really bad breakup and this is the first piece of writing I've actually finished since it happened. That being said, it's a little messy and everything so I'm sorry about that. I'm still confident enough to post it though so I hope you guys like it!
> 
> The title is a Troye Sivan & Ariana Grande song.

Moritz wasn’t sure if any of them had even met Max, but it seemed like all of them were keen enough to go to a stranger’s house for a party because Hanschen had told them to. Was this what college was? He hadn’t been to many parties since starting college. He tried to avoid them the best he could, but this time Hanschen had insisted which meant that Ilse and Martha had insisted that Moritz be there too. Moritz was nothing if not loyal to his friends. The issue was that his nervous self had managed to consume too much coffee before going into this, when he should have been doing the complete opposite. Hell, he should have been raiding Ernst’s special tea collection instead but coffee was what he knew and what he had in his dorm so now he had to deal with the fact that he had an incredible case of the jitters. Oh boy, this night was going to be something else.

 

The house itself was something out of a movie. Sure, he knew that Hanschen’s friends were usually a lot richer than he was. Most of them didn’t even live on campus but this was … even weirder than that. This was two whole stories of whiteish-grey cement and too big windows. There were lights lining the path up to the door and as Moritz stumbled along with his friends he was finding himself entirely overwhelmed. He could hear the music from out here. A part of him wondered if Max was about to be hit with a bunch of noise complaints. Moritz was pretty sure that he was practically shaking by the time they were all let in. He registered Hanschen greeting them and then some of his friends starting to split off into different directions. Everything was starting to feel like it was in slow motion.

 

“Moritz, what is it?”

 

He looked up at Melchior and realised instantly that he was both too close to him and too far away all at once. “Nothing.”

 

Melchior didn’t buy that at all. “What do you need?” he amended.

 

Moritz thought about that for a minute. “Water,” he muttered.

 

He nodded and went to move away when Moritz quickly grabbed his wrist without thinking.

 

“Don’t -”

 

Melchior looked back at him and nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. He tapped Wendla on the shoulder and said something to her. She looked at Moritz, nodded and then headed off in what he assumed to be the direction of the kitchen. “Do you need some air?” he asked.

 

Moritz just nodded, letting Melchior take his hand and lead him through the mass amounts of people. He wondered briefly if Wendla would still be able to find them outside. Pretty much the entire back of the house was glass. Surely she’d be able to see them.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, as they carefully avoided most of the people. As his eyes darted around outside - and _of course_ there was a pool in a house like this - he was sure that he didn’t recognise a single person there. Not even from people just walking around on campus. It wasn’t helping his nerves at all. Somehow Melchior managed to lead him towards the back, near a corner marked with hedges and a small seating area. Corners always made him feel safer.

 

“Don’t apologise,” he shrugged.

 

As they came to a stop, Moritz wondered why Melchior didn’t immediately let go of his hand. It wasn’t until Wendla found them that he did so. She was somehow managing to hold three red cups, one carefully wedged between the others as she reached them. Melchior took two and handed one to Moritz.  

 

“You ok, Moritz?” she asked.

 

Moritz held his cup tightly in both hands. Wendla had written his name on the side in her neat handwriting. He nodded. “I’m ok,” he said. “You two can go and have fun now.”

 

Wendla laughed at that. “Oh, come on. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

 

***

 

For the most part, his friends sort of rotated around him. Wendla stayed for a while, chatting about aimless things like what show she was currently watching and the English Lit class she shared with Melchior. Moritz was pretty sure she stayed until she was confident that he’d calmed down enough before heading off to dance with Ernst. After she left, she was quickly replaced by Ilse and Martha, both of whom were already on their third cup of whatever they were drinking and were far gigglier than usual.

 

At one point, Hanschen made his way over to challenge Melchior to a game of beer pong. Moritz had absolutely no idea why he refused. Usually Melchior would take any and all chances that he was given to prove that he was better than Hanschen at _something_. It wasn’t until he noticed the somehow-knowing glint in his eyes and obvious smirk on Hanschen’s face as he left that Moritz put all the pieces together. Melchior had been the only one who’d stayed with him all night. It was something that he was doing on purpose. Moritz had no idea how he felt about that.

 

“You don’t have to stay,” he said.

 

Melchior looked over at him and Moritz wished that there was better lighting so he could read the look on his face. The corner they’d chosen to stay in for most of the night was _just_ far enough that most of the lighting didn’t reach all the way over here. It hadn’t seemed like a mistake until now. “You think I’m staying because I don’t want you to be alone.” It wasn’t even a question. Somehow, Melchior just knew.

 

Moritz swallowed absently, looked at the ground instead and tried to come up with a response to that.

 

“Have you considered that maybe I want to stay?”

 

He just shrugged.

 

Melchior laughed at that. Then he stood up and Moritz thought that maybe this had somehow been the final straw, and now he was just going to walk off. Instead, he held out his hand. “Can I have this dance?” he asked.

 

Moritz just looked at him. “You want me to dance with you?” he asked, just for confirmation.

 

Melchior nodded, wiggled his fingers. “You always tell me to go dance when you think you’re keeping me. I want to dance. With you.”

 

Moritz wondered how many drinks he’d had. He was sure it hadn’t been that many. He’d have noticed if Melchior was drinking more than usual.

 

“It’ll help calm you down. I promise,” he added.

 

There was absolutely no logical way that that could be true. If anything, surely it’d make him feel _worse_. “No, it won’t.”

 

“Moritz,” he smiled. “Just trust me.”

 

He wasn’t sure how to refuse that. He’d never had a shortage of trust in Melchior. He took his hand and let Melchior pull him out of his seat and close enough that Moritz’s heart was already starting to race in his chest. He tried to pretend that it wasn’t, that it felt like nothing when Melchior moved Moritz’s hand to his shoulder and rested his own hand against his waist, interlocking their fingers with his free hand. This had to be one of the weirdest things that had ever happened to him. He was sure of it.

 

“Then we just kind of … awkwardly sway a little,” he shrugged.

 

Moritz wondered how Melchior was being so calm about this. Maybe not just _this_ , but the whole night in general. He wasn’t sure how Melchior hadn’t gone stir crazy from hanging around with him so much. Maybe that was what this was. Is that what this was? “We look ridiculous,” he said, because he could feel it.

 

Melchior shook his head, tapped his waist which left Moritz instantly going over what that could mean. “We really don’t,” he replied.

 

“Yes, and everyone’s staring at us.” They had to be. Sure, they were in a dark corner where pretty much no one could see them, but they just had to be looking. Why wouldn’t they be?

 

He laughed. “Everyone’s too drunk to care. Honestly, Moritz no one’s looking, and if they are we just look like a pair of high school sweethearts at a party. It’s fine.”

 

He was right, of course. It wasn’t like anyone knew them here. They probably looked like just about any other couple there. The question popped out before Moritz could even register stopping it. “Could we have been?” he asked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

For some reason Moritz could tell that Melchior knew _exactly_ what he meant. He shook his head and stared intently at the ground instead. “Nothing,” he muttered.

 

Melchior tapped his waist again and Moritz wondered if this was supposed to be some kind of morse code that he was supposed to pick up on. “High school sweethearts? Is that what you meant?”

 

Moritz froze entirely, his eyes not moving from the ground.

 

He smiled. “If I’m being honest with you, no I don’t think we could have been.”

 

Why did he even bother asking?

 

“The reason for that is because I was far too blind then to see what was right in front of me - “ He paused, tilted Moritz’s chin up gently so that he could see his eyes. “and how much he has always meant to me. Sometimes it takes time for people to realise things like that.”

 

Moritz was acutely aware that he couldn’t breathe. “What are you saying?”

 

Melchior shrugged, dropped his hand again. “That’s up to you.”

 

“No, I - I hate it when you get cryptic like this. What do you mean?”

 

Moritz barely had time to finish his sentence before Melchior was surging forward to kiss him, and he barely had time to respond before Melchior was pulling away again. “I love you, Moritz,” he said. “Does that help clear your head?”

 

He just looked at him for what felt like a really long time. He wasn’t sure if time was real in this moment, or if even if this moment was real within itself. He was desperately trying to think of something to say, but his brain wasn’t coming up with anything. “You’re drunk,” he settled on, as if that was a defence. A reason that something like this would happen.

 

Melchior smiled and shook his head. “Not drunk. A little tipsy, maybe, but not drunk. And even if I was, being drunk only enhances what you’re already thinking.” He pulled at Moritz’s jacket absently. “You look really good tonight, by the way.”

 

He paused, trying his best to take this all in. This was real, this moment and these words and these feelings. Somehow this was all real. “I’m supposed to say that I love you too, aren’t I?”

 

“That’s your choice, Moritz.”

 

“No, I - I do.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You _know_?”

 

“It’s all in your eyes, Moritz. They tell you everything if you know how to read them.”

 

Moritz didn’t know what to say to that. Everyone else always told him the opposite, that he was so incredibly hard to read. He hadn’t realised how false that would be to someone who’d known him his whole life. “Kiss me again,” he muttered.

 

Melchior laughed at that. “You’re making demands now? One confession and it all goes to your head.”

 

“I’m sorry, I -”

 

“Shh, I was teasing. Come here.”

 

Melchior pulled him in by the waist and Moritz conveniently forgot how to breathe again. He had far too many other things to focus on. Like the feeling of Melchior’s hand in his hair and the fact that the loud music and everyone’s voices had somehow all faded away. He was quite happy to melt into this forever.

 

The moment was only broken by Ilse somehow managing to break through the haze. “Praise Jesus! A miracle has happened tonight!”

 

Moritz pulled away suddenly, the sound of her voice a jolt to his system. She must have been due for another mid-party visit. He guessed that it’d been a while since he’d seen her. “Oh no,” he muttered.

 

Melchior barely moved, never taking his eyes off Moritz. “She’s … never going to shut up about this,” he smirked.

 

He looked up at him, his next response more obvious to him than anything in the world. “I think - it’s still worth it.”

 

Melchior smiled at him, pushed some hair out of Moritz’s eye. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me over at potter-awakening on Tumblr if you want to chat!
> 
> Until next time, I hope you all have a lovely day/night :)


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